


All I Want for Christmas

by AlwaysWrite



Category: Fillmore!
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28989774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysWrite/pseuds/AlwaysWrite
Summary: Safety Patrol is having a Christmas party. O'Farrell brought in mistletoe.
Relationships: Cornelius Fillmore & Ingrid Third, Cornelius Fillmore/Ingrid Third
Kudos: 1





	1. Fate Began at a Party

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing the migration of fics from ff dot net to here. This one shames me slightly less than my first. Welcome to the id of my 15-year old self. Also, young me apparently decided to be decent at naming chapters for this fic. Not sure why I let the title of the actual fic slide.

Around Christmastime, people are swamped with corny love songs involving sleigh rides, snow, and mistletoe. _Especially_ mistletoe. However, for some reason, mistletoe incidents seem to be getting more and more rare. So, despite the fact that kids love _hearing_ about the mistletoe tradition, very few actually believe it is as big of a deal as it is made out to be. Most will giggle at the thought of mistletoe, or laugh at it, convinced that its impact on their lives is inconsequential. And, many will be right. The majority of those kids will probably never find themselves in that kind of situation.

But, of course, there are always exceptions.

On the last day of school before Winter Break, right when the last bell rang at 3:00, all of X Middle School's Safety Patrollers reported to their office headquarters for their annual holiday party.

Well, _almost_ all of the officers…

It was 3:40 before the last two patrollers made their entrance. The pair went by the names Ingrid Third and Cornelius Fillmore. And judging by both their stances, neither looked particularly concerned about their tardiness. However, not everyone shared that sentiment.

"Fillmore! Third!"

Only one person in the world had that distinct bellow. Junior Commissioner Vallejo had stamped out of his office upon seeing their arrival, his brown eyes showing irritation.

"Snap," Ingrid murmured wryly.

"Don't worry about it. Vallejo's a softy around Christmas time," Fillmore whispered as Vallejo approached them. It was true; most of the time, Vallejo's bark was _way_ worse than his bite.

"You two were _supposed_ to be here 40 minutes ago." Despite Fillmore's claim of his forgiving attitude, Vallejo was the kind of person who appreciated it when everything ran like clockwork. Having his two most talented (and _irritating_ ) officers unable to do something as simple as show up on time, even for a party, threw a wrench in the works.

Fillmore chuckled. "Chill Vallejo. We just had to deal with a few minor issues."

Vallejo held up one hand while combing the other through his short black hair. "It's officially winter break. Folsom is already on a plane bound for the Caribbean. I don't want to know why you were late; you're here now. Although, maybe you two could use the vacation to make a New Year's resolution. Like being on time, or only destroying _100_ dollars of school property all year…" Vallejo turned around and walked back to his chair.

Ingrid and Fillmore set down their backpacks and sat on top of their desks as three other safety patrollers approached them.

"Planning on passing your bad habits along to Ingrid, Fillmore?" Karen Tehama asked him.

Fillmore and the other two boys laughed while Ingrid just looked amused. "What does she mean?" Ingrid asked the others.

"Fillmore has this tendency to be late to _every_ safety patrol event," Joseph Anza supplied with a smile.

"Yeah," Danny O'Farrell giggled, his blue eyes gleaming with mirth. "He's been late to just about everything we've done since I've been on the force!"

"Last year, right after school, the day we got out for spring break, he busted some kid for _running in the halls_ and wrote him up as having a minor offense," Tehama detailed in an amused tone. "When he finally got here, he spent the first half hour of the party setting up the paperwork."

Ingrid raised one eyebrow as she looked at Fillmore. "Okay, I've heard of people working too hard, but setting yourself with paperwork at the start of spring break? For a hallway runner?"

Fillmore shrugged one shoulder and grinned. "Hey, I _would_ have let him off, but the kid was _sprinting_ down the halls. Knocked some kids down pretty hard. So I decided to make use of the phrase 'rules are rules.'"

"Yeah, what else is new?" Anza asked, rolling his eyes.

Fillmore decided it was best to change the subject. "Dawg, the office decorations actually look pretty good this year." Strings of Christmas lights had been strung around the room and around the miniature Christmas tree in the corner. Here and there from the ceiling hung bunches of holly. Without the usual line-up of delinquents in there being questioned, the office actually looked festive. Fillmore admired the room a few seconds more before asking, "Who set them up?"

"That would be me," Tehama replied.

"Hey, I helped!" O'Farrell protested. Judging by the Christmas lights still knotted about his hands and the holly leaves nestled in his hair, it was pretty obvious as to how much "help" he had been. O'Farrell continued, unaware of the other's amused skepticism. "I was the main coordinator for the holly garlands—"

"Which is why the holly is falling down," Tehama whispered to Ingrid who laughed softly.

"—And the official Christmas light bulb-replacer and—holy fish sticks! I almost forgot!" And with that, O'Farrell stumbled quickly to the door, managing to knock over three plastic Santa decorations and tripping over some wires.

The four remaining patrollers just shook their heads. "So what's your excuse _this_ time?" Anza asked.

"Nothing much," Ingrid answered. "A few of my teachers just wanted to wish me a merry Christmas. They thanked me for putting so much effort into my final tests."

Fillmore laughed. "A _few_ teachers? Try just about every teacher in the school. Some were so grateful that you did well on their tests, I think they would have promised you their firstborn children."

"He's exaggerating," Ingrid interrupted quickly.

"Not by much," he said, for all purposes ignoring Ingrid's statement. "I think some of the teachers that congratulated you don't even _have_ you as a student. You just managed to give them hope."

Ingrid grinned and lightly hit Fillmore on his shoulder. He rubbed his "wound" in mock pain.

"Well, that's what you get for being the smartest kid in school, Ingrid," Tehama teased lightly.

"She's right," Anza agreed. "But what's done is done. We'll see ya around." Fillmore and Ingrid nodded as Anza and Tehama walked away to join another group of patrollers.

"You know, my teachers were not the sole reason for our being late. Must you embellish everything?" Ingrid asked in mock exasperation.

"Like I said, I didn't exaggerate by much. And no, it wasn't only your teachers that made us late. The rest was us trying to shuffle past all these kids who were _glaring_ at you because you had set the curve too high on the finals," Fillmore said in a know-it-all voice.

"Well, I'd love to know what they expected me to do. It's not like I'd fail those exams just so _they_ could do better. _And_ , need I mention that we _could_ have gotten out of there sooner if you hadn't started that confrontation against that kid who called me a teacher's pet. It wasn't that big of a deal."

"What else was I supposed to do? You got those grades fair and square, and anyone who can't deal with that—." Anything else Fillmore planned to say was cut off by a rather loud CRASH that signified O'Farrell's triumphant return.

The red head got up and dusted himself off. "I've got it!" he proclaimed to anyone in the office who would listen. "The only missing decoration!"

With the crowd that was gathering around O'Farrell, Ingrid and Fillmore couldn't quite make out _what_ it was that the boy was holding. Shrugging, they got up and walked over to get a better view.

Meanwhile, O'Farrell, with the help of a few others, managed to string a sprig of mistletoe so that it hung in the center of the room. The missing decoration.

"See, this year, I'm gonna get a kiss from every girl on the force," O'Farrell told Anza with a grin. "Hey Ingrid! Tehama!" he called to the girls who hadn't seen his "decoration" yet. "I've got something to show you!"

"I heard what you said to Anza, you little sea monkey. I'm not falling for it O'Farrell!" Tehama called back, without even looking up from where she was.

"What's she talking about?" Ingrid asked as she and Fillmore were finally able to make their way through the crowd surrounding O'Farrell.

"Just step over here Ingrid, and I'll show you," O'Farrell said, trying to hide his glee.

Ingrid looked at him suspiciously, but then took the two more steps so she was standing next to him.

"Okay. Now what?" Ingrid asked, trying to humor the boy.

"Look up," O'Farrell said as he grinned.

She frowned at him in confusion, then looked up and finally saw the mistletoe hanging above her. Her eyes widened briefly while some of the other patrollers laughed good-naturedly at O'Farrell's antics.

"See Ingrid?" You've gotta kiss me now!" O'Farrell crowed. "And that'll be one down for the count!"

Suddenly, Ingrid looked at him with a mischievous smile forming on her face. "Okay O'Farrell. I'll give you a kiss," she said innocently. O'Farrell brightened while Fillmore and the other officers looked…shocked, to say the least. "Close your eyes," Ingrid continued.

O'Farrell obeyed, leaned forward, and pursed his lips. At that moment, Ingrid reached into her pocket and pulled something out of it. When O'Farrell was leaning forward enough to fall over in eagerness, Ingrid took the opportunity to pop the object from her pocket between his lips.

"Bleeech!" O'Farrell sputtered, trying to get the object out of his mouth while the crowd around them laughed. "What did you do?" he asked, gasping at Ingrid who was still smiling innocently.

"I just did what you said O'Farrell," Ingrid supplied. "I gave you a kiss. A Hershey's Kiss." And the crowd laughed again.

After recovering from the experience of eating tin foil, he said, "Alright. Despite this minor setback, I swear, I will get a kiss from every girl on the force even if I have to stay till midnight!"

"O'Farrell?" Vallejo interrupted, massaging his head like he had a headache. "The party's over at six."

"Oh? Oh! Okay, I will get a kiss from every girl on the force before this party's over, or my name isn't James O'Farrell!" And he stomped off, presumably to work on a plan of action.

"Isn't his real name Daniel?" Fillmore quipped as the crowd dispersed around them.

"Yeah, it is," Vallejo said while walking over to him. "He's probably thinking James as in 'James Bond', or something." Ingrid chose that moment to walk up. "Good way to dodge that bullet Third. How'd you think of it?"

Ingrid gave a one-shouldered shrug as she answered. "Couple years ago, at one of my old schools, there was this kid who liked me, but was misguided enough to press that point, even after I had clearly told him what I thought of him. And you two know how clear I can be about something like that," she told the two boys.

They just nodded. Yeah, they knew.

"Anyways," she continued. "One day, it was at another holiday party, he managed to get me under some mistletoe. I was caught off guard and didn't know what to do. I though for one awful second that I was actually going to have to _kiss_ that slimy toad, but thankfully, one of the girls there who didn't think I was 'weird' handed me some Hershey kisses to give to him. And it worked. The mistletoe rule only says you have to forfeit a kiss. It doesn't specify what _kind_. I got kicked out of that school two weeks later, so I never saw 'toad-boy' again, but now I always know to carry some of these around with me during the Christmas season."

Vallejo smiled and shook his head. "Points for being prepared Third. Now, enjoy yourselves. I've gotta go make sure O'Farrell doesn't electrocute himself on any Christmas lights." Heaving a long-suffering sigh, the Junior Commissioner walked off.

When he was gone, Fillmore said with a challenge in his tone, "O'Farrell's pretty set on his goal. You sure you're up to escaping him?"

Ingrid gave him an are-you-kidding-me look. "I've been your partner for _how_ long, Fillmore? What do you think?" She gave a small smile. "Now let's listen to Vallejo for once and enjoy this party.


	2. Secrets of a Secluded Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I tried to get into ff dot net to "Manage" my fics there (for easier copy-pasting), BUT, turns out I don't have the password to my HOTMAIL ACCOUNT anymore.

They didn't have to try very hard to enjoy the party. Someone had put on some holiday music, the kind you never get sick of listening to. The office was full of people just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Every once in a while there was a short bit of applause and some friendly teasing as O'Farrell began to succeed in his goal. He even managed to catch Tehama, who was too far away to get the Hershey kisses Ingrid would have given her without hesitation. With a glare at her audience, she proceeded to give O'Farrell a quick peck on the cheek, turning red as she pulled away with another sour look at Anza and Fillmore.

However, no matter how hard he tried, O'Farrell never seemed to be able to catch Ingrid away from her Hershey kisses. Time and time again he jumped from wherever he was when she walked under the mistletoe, and time and time again, she would calmly hand him a chocolate kiss.

"Eventually you're gonna run out of those!" O'Farrell declared.

"Not likely," she retorted. "I bought a whole bag of these last night. I'm not going to run out anytime soon." But other than that, it was a fairly peaceful party.

But no matter how "peaceful" a party it was, it was still a party and apt to wear a person down. To take a break from the talking of their comrades and O'Farrell's overly enthusiastic actions, Fillmore and Ingrid went to sit down at her desk. Ingrid collapsed into her chair and Fillmore managed to hoist himself to sit on the edge of her desk. He sighed. "Some party right?"

"Oh, you know how much I _love_ being in the social scene," Ingrid replied jokingly. "But actually, I'm having a pretty good time."

They sat in silence for a moment before Ingrid struck up another conversation. "So, I guess Miles is taking Christmas break off too?" she guessed as she pointed to the empty fishbowl.

"Yeah, my mom came and picked him up after school. It might have been a little difficult to feed him otherwise."

She nodded. "True enough. So, what are you doing for Christmas? Got any special 'Fillmore Family Traditions'?"

He smiled. "Nothing much. Christmas Eve at grandma's, drive through town to look at Christmas lights, then on Christmas morning my family goes to church."

"Church?" Ingrid asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yeah. I don't exactly have perfect attendance there, but I'm always there on Christmas. Plus, it means a lot to my folks for me to be there. How 'bout you? What are _your_ Christmas plans?"

"Kind of the same as you. Visit and have dinner with relatives on Christmas Eve, then go home and finish decorating the tree. Christmas day, open gifts, of course. Over the past two years my family volunteers for a couple of hours after that, and…um, yeah, that's…" she trailed off, her voice growing quieter.

Fillmore looked at her, concerned. "Ingrid, what is it?"

"Nothing," she stated softly, hoping he'd take the hint.

No such luck. "No, Ingrid," he said firmly. "What were you going to say?"

She took a deep breath. "After that, we…we go to the cemetery. To visit my mother," she murmured quietly.

It was then that Fillmore was hit with an incredibly strong feeling of guilt and stupidity. The kind that people only get when they realize they've just done or said something really, really stupid, and now they just kind of want to sink into the ground. "Dawg. Ingrid…Ingrid, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressed you for that. It wasn't any of my business."

She gave him a slight smile. "No, it wasn't. But it's okay. You didn't know. It's just…I know that people feel awkward when I bring it up, so I kind of try to avoid it. And, even though I'm not _grieving_ anymore…it's not exactly one of my favorite topics."

Fillmore nodded slowly. "I understand."

He was rewarded with a smile, albeit a wavering one, from Ingrid. "You know, I actually think you do." She looked down at her hands. "My mom loved Christmas time. The decorations, the parties, the weather, the traditions. She especially loved getting all our friends and family together for all of that stuff. I don't know if I would have gotten that into Christmas if it weren't for her. The flashing lights, gift shopping, rushing here and there, it wasn't really my thing. But she made Christmas something to remember."

"I'm sure she did," Fillmore agreed, walking over to her and slipping his arm around her shoulders in a quick hug.

She leaned against him briefly before pulling away to continue. "Yeah. Four years ago when she…when it happened, it was during the summer. None of us were thinking about what Christmas would be like since she was gone, we were still too overwhelmed. That's when I understood why having the family together during Christmas was so important to my mom. I got it because we all needed her to be there with us so much. That's why me and my dad and my sister go and visit her. Keeps the family together."

"That's rough Ingrid. My mom's a huge part of my life; I don't know if I would have been able to deal with it."

She laughed a little. "I almost wasn't able to. That's when I started to get in trouble at school. At first, everyone was sympathetic, but after one year and my fourth school, they weren't so forgiving. Eventually I started working through everything, but by then, I knew I would always establish myself as the 'weird kid', so getting kicked out was just… _easier_ than staying in. That, plus my lack of social skills made getting in trouble like a hobby. It was kind of… _fun_.

After I left a few more schools around the globe, my dad suggested the family move to give us a new start. That's why he chose X. See, my hometown, where my mom is, it's only about 80 miles away, so we can still go back once in a while."

Fillmore smiled. "Well, I don't know if all those teachers in those other schools would agree, but I'm glad you guys chose this place to get a new start."

She continued gazing at the surface of her desk as she answered with a small, joking grin, "I know. You're very lucky to have me."

"Very true." Fillmore said softly, then, after a moment, gave her shoulder a small shove, clearing the tension.

They sat in silence for a minute, and then Fillmore cleared his throat and spoke. "Ingrid, I'm still sorry I brought this whole thing up, but I'm glad you were able to tell me about it."

She finally looked up at him. "Me too," she murmured. She seemed to think about something, then opened a drawer in her desk and took out a photograph.

"What's that?" Fillmore asked, although he had an idea as to what it was.

"This is one of the last pictures my family took with all of us in it." She turned the photo in her hand to show him. In the frame, he saw a much younger Ingrid standing with her father, sister, and a young woman who could only be her mother.

"It's one of my favorite pictures. Back then it was even more important, because one of the worst things that I remember about the time was how it seemed like I didn't have anything left of my mom. I was always considered 'Daddy's Girl,' and that's how close Ariella and mom were. It felt like people were so much more sympathetic to her because of how close they were. I was angry, and jealous, and I felt so guilty, because even though I love my dad, I didn't want to be 'Daddy's Girl' right then. Everyone was saying how similar Ariella and mom had always been. I remember thinking that I didn't have anything left of my mom in me."

Fillmore put his hand on her shoulder to show he understood. "Hey, can I see that?" he asked, gesturing towards the photo. Ingrid seemed to hesitate, but then she handed it to him.

He held the picture carefully as he looked at it. "Your mom was very pretty," he commented.

"Yeah, she was," Ingrid agreed.

He studied the photo another moment, and then said, "You look a lot like her."

Ingrid's eyes flitted up to look at him. Realizing what his comment had sounded like, he was blushing, but it was only slightly visible because of his dark skin. Come to think of it, she was blushing too, although her blush was a LOT more visible. "Really? You think so?" she asked trying to sound nonchalant, but only managed to sound a little bit flattered and very unsure.

"Well, yeah," Fillmore stammered. However, the sight of impenetrable Ingrid Third _blushing_ did much to help him regain his calm. "I mean, you've both got black hair, hers’ is just a little longer. And you've both got these big, bright green eyes."

She looked at him. "Do you realize you just made me sound similar to a bug? 'Big, bright green eyes'. Either a bug or an alien."

He laughed. "Well, I've sometimes wondered if you were from another planet." She smacked his arm, though not hard. "But I meant 'big, bright green eyes' in a _good_ way."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "In a good way. Riiiight." She looked back at the picture. "I guess our hair and our eyes _do_ look the same. But…I don't know. According to my dad's stories, my mom was the cutest girl in school, and everyone loved her. In that, I'm nothing like her; I'm just 'that smart kid in the safety patrol'."

"Okay, first, being as smart as you are ain't 'just' anything. And, I mean…well…you're cute too."

"Liar," she said simply, without a trace of bitterness.

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

"Because you _are_. You're my friend, so you just tell me I'm cute to try and make me feel better. That's what friends are supposed to do."

"Ingrid," Fillmore said and she looked up at him. He had a stop-being-dumb grin on his face. "When have I ever lied to you to make you feel better? Remember, I was the one who told you how bad your rodeo clown costume was when we worked on that case. So, in a completely objective way, I will say this one more time:

You are very pretty. Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not blind, so I see the guys that glance at you in the hallways. And on occasion you are…what's that word girls like to use? Oh yeah, _adorable_ ," he ended the word in an emphasized drawl, rolling his eyes.

Ingrid laughed. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"You. Saying the word ' _adorable.'_ I had no idea you even knew that word Fillmore. It's way not you."

He snorted. "Well, don't get used to hearing it."

"So, objectively, you think I'm cute, huh? Like when?"

"Well," he said slowly, studying her face. Aware of his scrutiny, she started to turn pink. "Like…now."

"What?" she asked, not certain she heard him right.

"Like now. You look cute now." A thoughtful smile crossed his face. "You're cute when you blush." (A hundred points to the reviewer that can tell me what that reference is from, etc.).

If she had been blushing before, Ingrid's cheeks were now rapidly approaching the color of a tomato. She snuck a quick glance at Fillmore's face to see if he was still looking at her. He was. Unbidden, a thought popped into her head. ' _Our faces are so close, he could lean over right now and kiss me._ " Then, shocked that she could even _think_ such things about her friend, she buried the delinquent thought and looked down again at the photo to try and recollect her composure.

Fillmore looked at her a few moments longer with the same smile on his face. What he had said was true. Ingrid _was_ cute when she blushed, especially because Ingrid was not a person who got flustered very often. So the sight of her blushing again because of something he had said was…intriguing, to say the least. It gave him the urge to think up more things that would make Ingrid blush. He shook his head to clear those thoughts and followed Ingrid's gaze to the picture.

Ingrid took the photo back in her hands and commented, "I suppose me and my mom _do_ look very alike."

"Yeah, but see, it's more than just that," Fillmore added, wanting her to understand. Calling her attention back to the photo, he continued. "See? Look at the way she carries herself in this picture. I must have seen you stand like that a hundred times, every time we're waiting for Vallejo to stop lecturing on the 'proper policy' for safety patrollers. It's like a combination of boredom and amusement. Like you're saying 'I can't believe I'm putting up with this, but you're amusing me, so I guess I will.'"

She elbowed him as he laughed, although not hard enough to hurt. "I get what you mean. Mom _hated_ posing for pictures; Dad always insisted on it so we could send them to grandma." Ingrid looked at the photo one more time, walked back around her desk, and replaced it in the drawer.

She came back to where he was now standing. All of a sudden, Fillmore found himself the recipient of a strong, desperate hug from Ingrid. "Thanks Fillmore," she whispered into his shoulder. "No one ever bothered to tell me that I looked like her."

He patted her back awkwardly before settling his arms around her and returning the hug. "Maybe they thought it would have been too painful for you, if they brought it up."

"Maybe," she echoed back softly before pulling out of the embrace and trying to compose herself.

"That might have been what they thought," Ingrid said, trying to hold back any final wavering bits in her voice. "But that was exactly what I needed to hear. To know that I did have some of my mom in me. Exactly what I needed."

Sensing that _now_ might be a good time to change the subject, but not exactly sure how, Fillmore asked, "Uh…Ingrid? Since I really wouldn't know what to do, you're not gonna like… _cry_ are you?"

As Fillmore had predicted, she smiled. And then, as he _should_ have predicted, she punched him in the arm.

Rubbing his arm where her fist had just hit, he grinned. "What say we party a little more?" he suggested. Ingrid grinned and nodded as they went to rejoin their friends.


	3. Under the Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writing may be from 2005, but at least I can avoid my old Author's Notes! (Originally, I had to delay an update because I was getting ready for PROM)

It was a little after six o'clock, and the party had been a success. Most of the other officers had left. O'Farrell had tried, and failed, to catch Ingrid under the mistletoe several more times before the party ended, but otherwise he managed to accomplish his goal. For now, he and Ingrid were the only ones in the office and were attempting to clean up the sea of used plastic cups that had been left behind by all the other long-gone patrollers.

"Well, that party was _fun_ ," O'Farrell said with a contented sigh.

"I have to agree," Ingrid replied. "So, other than the obvious, how'd you 'quest' go?"

"Not bad actually. I even caught Tehama _twice_ ," he answered, turning very red as he spoke.

Ingrid hid a grin. Controlling herself, she managed to say, "Well, that's nice, I guess."

"Yeah," O'Farrell sighed dreamily. Then, shaking himself out of it, he said, "At least you and Tehama and the other girls understand how the _rules_ of mistletoe are. You don't just walk away saying 'this is stupid.' I mean, you get caught, and you give the person a kiss. Even if it is chocolate," he mock glared at Ingrid. "Anyway, I'll always have next year for my goal."

Suddenly, Ingrid bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I don't want to be the only reason that you didn't accomplish your goal," she explained with a smile.

O'Farrell's face lit up like, will, like a Christmas tree. "Thanks Ingrid!" he said excitedly. He raced off into the hall to inform Anza of his triumph, only slowing down to remind Ingrid to turn off the lights when she left.

Shaking her head in amusement, Ingrid flicked the switch for the fluorescent lights, picked up the box of stuff she'd take home for break, and began to make her way out of the office when a voice stopped her.

"That was nice, what you did for O'Farrell."

It was Fillmore. Apparently she and O'Farrell _hadn't_ been the only ones in the office. She squinted to make out his form in the darkness. The only light was coming from the hallway through the partially closed door and the strings of multi-colored Christmas lights. As he walked up to her, she shrugged a little sheepishly and replied simply, "He's a good kid. And it's not like he's that guy from my other school or that he's got cooties. It took so little to give him some happiness. That's kind of what Christmas is about."

He nodded as he stepped in front of her. "It's amazing how sometimes the easiest things can make people happier than they ever thought they could be," he said softly.

Ingrid nodded in return. Both were silent for a moment. For some reason, Fillmore chanced to look up during the semi-awkward silence. He paused for a second and then looked back at his partner. "Um…Ingrid?" He asked with a smile that was half embarrassed and half… _mischievous_?

"Yeah?" she asked, glancing up at him.

He gestured. "Look up."

She did, and it took her a minute for her mind to register what it was that her eyes saw. And when it did register, she couldn't believe it.

The mistletoe.

She and Fillmore were standing under the mistletoe. _Together_.

Ingrid recovered from her state of shock (and the slight, unexplainable fluttering in her stomach when she realized the situation), set down her box of stuff, gave Fillmore an ironic grin, and reached into her bag for a kiss.

And froze. Her eyes blinked, conveying confusion. She then reached into a different compartment in her bag. Then a smaller one. Then both her pockets, until finally dropping her hands to her sides.

Suddenly finding the floor incredibly entertaining, Ingrid stared at the ground off to the side and spoke. "Uh, Fillmore?"

"Yeah?" he asked, still waiting to be presented with something from Hershey's collection.

"Um…well...idnt hvny chltekslft." She mumbled incoherently.

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

She took a deep breath. "I don't think I have any chocolate kisses left."

Fillmore blinked, paused, and then repeated, "You don't have any left." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," she laughed a little, nervously, still not looking at him. "I guess O'Farrell cleaned me out."

The next three seconds of silence seemed an eternity. "So…I don't have a chocolate kiss to give you," she reiterated lamely, keeping her eyes on that interesting piece of tile to her right.

Out of the darkness, Ingrid felt strong, warm fingers slip under her chin and raise her head so she was looking into Fillmore's face. Her breath caught in her throat.

His features were lit only by the Christmas lights, but Ingrid somehow saw an almost… _soft_ look in his eyes. As he held her eyes with his own, he whispered in a low voice, "Then I guess we'll have to improvise." And with that, he closed the distance between them and captured her lips with his.

The kiss was achingly tender. During that split-second where he had leaned toward her, Ingrid had felt a wave of panic and thrill wash over her—until he had actually kissed her. In that instant, every turbulent emotion within her was put to rest. It seemed that there was nothing left in the world except her and Fillmore, kissing in the glow of Christmas lights while snow fell outside the window. It was perfect.

The best part was that it was _Fillmore_ she was kissing. It was her partner, her best friend, the first person who had given her hope that she might finally be able to belong somewhere. The only one who had been able to put to rest her insecurities about her and her mother.

It had only taken one second for her to recover before Ingrid put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. His arms snaked around her waist to pull her closer to him, and Ingrid was lost in the feeling of his arms around her.

Their holds on loosened and slowly they pulled their faces away. They stood there, without making eye-contact, arms around each other, trying to catch their breaths. Finally, they looked up at each other.

We will never know what might have happened next, because suddenly Ingrid and Fillmore head voices coming down the hallway. Showing their remarkable teamwork (had anyone been around to see it), the two broke apart. Fillmore shifted so he was standing a foot away from where he had been and Ingrid stooped down, as if to retrieve her box. When Vallejo, Anza, Tehama, and O'Farrell walked in, the two officers were the picture of normalcy.

They weren't called the best for nothing.

As the four other patrollers made their way in, Vallejo switched on the lights, noticed the pair still in the room, and called out to them. "Fillmore! Third! What are you two still doing here?"

"Just packing up some stuff, Vallejo," Fillmore supplied. He was proud of how calm he was able to make his voice sound, considering how fast his heart was still pounding.

"Yeah, well, get yourselves home. I'll be seeing you guys enough come second semester."

"Will do, Vallejo," Ingrid answered, picking up her box to try and get to the door again.

Suddenly, someone shouted, "Freeze!"

It was O'Farrell. Of course.

"What is it _now_ , O'Farrell?" Vallejo asked, putting his hand to his head like he was beginning to get a headache.

O'Farrell's reply was a Cheshire grin. "Look," he pointed. "Fillmore and Ingrid are under the mistletoe."

Said officers froze with wide-open eyes, having forgotten where they stood. The other officers just looked amused. "Aww, isn't that cute?" Anza teased.

The four patrollers waited expectantly for a moment before Tehama spoke. "Well?"

"Well what?" Ingrid asked, stalling.

"Ingrid, come on. You know the drill; you've gone through it all night. You just have to give him a kiss."

_'Therein lies the trouble'_ Ingrid thought.

Fillmore laughed, trying to avoid the _really_ awkward situation that only he and Ingrid were aware of. "Nope, that doesn't work. Party's already over."

"But it's still _Christmas_ , Fillmore," Anza taunted.

"You got caught under the mistletoe, so you have to give a kiss," O'Farrell interjected.

"Don't forget Fillmore, _rules are rules_ ," Anza said.

Fillmore and Ingrid turned to face each other. "Um…" Ingrid mumbled as she put down her box of stuff and went through the motions of searching her bag and pockets for a kiss. She started her statement, "I don't—…" her voice died away as she saw something on the floor that the arriving officers hadn't seen.

A Hershey's Kiss.

One of _her_ Hershey's Kisses. Probably the last one she had. She must have dropped it.

It was her out.

Ingrid saw Fillmore drop his gaze and his eyes widen slightly. Then she realized; he saw the kiss too. Making eye contact again, his eyes asked many questions, but he only asked one. "Ingrid…?"

She knew he was asking her what she wanted to do. Like _she_ knew. Ingrid glanced at their grinning audience. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Fillmore. Using the box to mask her slight movement, she placed her foot to the side of the kiss and stood up while dragging the kiss away, out of sight.

Ingrid could have sworn she saw Fillmore's lips twitch upward to form a quick smile before the expression vanished. They _did_ still have an audience. Ingrid looked back at Tehama and the others, giving them an embarrassed smile. "Guys, I don't _have_ any more chocolate kisses. O'Farrell must have gotten all of them."

Their grins widened as they realized what that meant. "Sorry guys, but that doesn't matter," Tehama replied with a wicked grin.

"She's right you two." Even Vallejo looked amused. "And like Anza told you, rules are rules."

Once again, Ingrid found herself facing Fillmore. She wasn't sure what to do; she felt so awkward and frozen with four pairs of eyes on her. But then she heard Fillmore murmur out of the corner of his mouth, "We should probably get this done before they cause a scene."

She gave him a small smile and nodded almost imperceptibly. They both leaned forward and for the second time that evening, their lips met.

The kiss itself was short, just long enough so their audience couldn't accuse them of worming out of it. Of course, that didn't stop Ingrid's knees from going weak or having butterflies invade her stomach.

Fillmore drew a ragged breath, making Ingrid feel somewhat better knowing the kiss had affected him too.

There had been some scattered applause and a chorus of "There! Was that so awful?" "What did I tell you?" "It's not like you guys have something _contagious_!"

Fillmore and Ingrid nodded and laughed off the jokes as they gathered their stuff, Ingrid discreetly hiding the rogue chocolate kiss in her bag.

"Okay you two, you can head out. You've caused enough trouble for one semester. We'll be out right after you. See you next year." Vallejo dismissed them good-naturedly.

"Hey," O'Farrell said with an evil grin as Fillmore and Ingrid began walking out. "Mistletoe kisses don't have to be on the lips, do they? Why didn't you guys just kiss on the che—ow!" he yelped as Tehama elbowed him. Thankfully Ingrid and Fillmore didn't hear him. Tehama waved goodbye to the departing officers and called out after them.

"Merry Christmas guys! Have a good break!"

* * *

Outside of the school, Fillmore and Ingrid stood facing opposite directions, just watching and listening to the snow. So much had gone on tonight, from Ingrid's revelation about her mother to the incidents under the mistletoe. It was a relief to just come out into the silence of the world and watch as all of the world's defects were covered by delicate, white snow.

Clearing his throat, Fillmore spoke. "Hey, Ingrid?"

She turned. "Yeah?"

"You want to…on Christmas, in the evening, after you're done with everything, you want to come over to my house? Most of my family will be there, but by evening it's kind of quiet around there. We'd be glad to have you. Your dad and sister could come too."

"Your mom won't mind?"

"Nah. At our house, her rule is 'There's always room for one more.'"

"And rules are rules, right?" she grinned.

He returned it. "Right. So what do you think?"

"Well, I'll have to ask my dad, but other than that…yeah, I'd love to come."

"You sure?"

She looked at him. "I can't think of any other place I'd rather be." Then, Ingrid took a step closer and pressed a lightning fast kiss on his lips. She stepped back, blushing pink, and quickly turned to walk to where her dad would pick her up. Fillmore was watching her walk away when she turned and called back to him. "Merry Christmas Fillmore!"

He gave a wide smile. He called back. "Merry Christmas Ingrid!" And with that, they both turned and walked to where they'd each meet their parents.

Unbeknownst to the pair, they weren't exactly _alone_ in the schoolyard. Out of the school entrance, Anza, Tehama, Vallejo, and O'Farrell stepped out into the snow. The four safety patrollers who had observed the exchange stood there for a minute, staring in the directions where their friends had just walked. It was Tehama who broke the silence.

"It's about _time_."

Anza snorted. "No kidding."

O'Farrell shook his head. "Those guys have to be more clueless than _I_ am."

"Okay, okay, that's enough people," Vallejo interjected, despite the smile on his face. "Enough spying. The rest can wait till next semester. Merry Christmas guys."

The other three wished him and each other a quick "Merry Christmas" in return and hurried off to where their parents were waiting. It was getting cold, and they all had their own homes to get to. It _was_ Christmas break, after all.


End file.
